Cuckoo Boy
by Summer Leigh Wind
Summary: Draco knew from the moment he held his infant son, Scorpius, in his arms that something wasn't right about him. But Albus Severus Potter didn't realize how "wrong" Scorpius was until it was too late for everyone – not just him. Two-Shot.
1. Part I

**_Cuckoo Boy_**

* * *

In a beige room accented with emerald greens and the occasional touch of baby blue, Draco Malfoy sat in the rocking chair that once belonged to his wife's mother. In the soft light filtering through the room's picture window Draco stared at his infant son's face. He was handsome, the Malfoy scion decided. His cheeks were a perfect newborn ruddy pink; his chin a lovely point at the bottom of a round face and his head was topped with a thatch of feather-white blond. All in all, he was a fine Malfoy specimen.

At two weeks old, he rarely cried. When hungry, he mewled, when tired, he whined, when wet, he squirmed. His mother had told him all babies were different, but Draco didn't like it. Something about Scorpius just felt… _wrong_. His friend's babies had fussed at the holds of strangers even in their earliest days. They were always seeking out the comfort and safety of those who made them, but his son just lay in strangers' arms with the same tense body he kept in his arms and Astoria's.

Petting the little cheek, he murmured to the infant, "Get better Scorpius."

"Get better?" his wife called from the doorway. Looking up, he saw her smiling at him with her hair flowing around her shoulders. "Is he gassy from his bottle? My mother mentioned that Daphne sometimes got that way."

Handing his son off to the eager hands of his sleepy-eyed wife, Draco didn't have the heart or bravery to admit his true fears. "Yes," he agreed instead, watching all the while, as Scorpius lay straight in his mother's arms. Not once did he shift as she bounced him and sang a child's nursery tune.

_Mary, Mary, quite contrary_

_How does your garden grow?_

_With silver bells, and cockle shells,_

_And pretty maids all in a row…_

* * *

At six months old, Scorpius was almost ordinary. He sat up, rolled over and occasionally slithered around while on his tummy; he babbled some too. Astoria wanted his first word to be "Mama" and Draco kind of hoped it would be "Dada" or a variant like "Da". What wasn't normal, however, was how Scorpius worked himself into fits of frustration.

They took him to a healer for it once. The healer waved their concerns away though with the simple line of, "He's only six months old, babies are prone to dramatic behavior. " Followed by asking, "Do you react when he does? Little ones sometimes do things to get a certain reaction."

After that, Draco hadn't really asked anyone else on what his or her thoughts were about his son's odd behavior. One day, home from work for the afternoon, Draco was saddled with watching Scorpius. Taking his son to the drawing room, he put the infant on the floor with a stack of cups and tuned out to read a book instead of playing with Scorpius. A few minutes later, the infant screeched.

Looking up, he saw his son throw one of the cups halfway across the room and with a sudden spurt of magic, one that Scorpius was still shaking around began to melt.

Jumping up from the couch, Draco ripped the toy from his son's grip and gasped at how hot it was. The whole situation seemed inconceivable to Draco. He could hardly believe a _baby - _not even a year old - preformed such an act.

He and Astoria had shared stories they knew about their early accidental magic during her pregnancy. They only had a story each between them where they had preformed a magical feat at such a young age. Draco's was the story of how he made his blankey float all the way to him from the opposite end of the manor when he was just a bit older than Scorpius was now and Astoria had a funny little tale about how she made her sister's share of cake disappear from her plate and appear on hers at about a year and a half old.

This, though, felt oddly violent and as Draco swung his still bawling son up in his arms, he had a look at Scorpius's little hands and let out a scared squeak at the blisters he saw.

Just how frustrated had a couple of colorful stacking cups made his son?

"It's alright my little scorpion," he tried to sooth as he bound off for the bathroom where they kept a small tin of burn salve. "We'll get you all fixed up before you know it."

None of this mattered to the infant, of course. Instead he simply threw himself in a painful looking arch as he let loose a particularly heart-stirring scream.

* * *

It was as they visited Daphne one late autumn day that Scorpius stirred another reason to fear in Draco. His son was almost two, he ran with the agility of a clomping rhino and talked at a volume Draco was going to have to correct soon if he didn't want everyone to think the Malfoy heir was raising his son to be some sort of commoner. Playing in his aunt's garden, as the adults talk comfortably off to the side, no one was really minding too much what Scorpius tore from bushes or what he uprooted from the soil.

As long as he was occupied and relatively happy, it was nothing that couldn't be fixed later. As his son took a turn behind a particularly tall bush, he gave his signature hyena cackle (which sometimes brought back echoes of a woman's breathless, frightening laughter) and no one really expected much. He'd come back around in a moment - just as he had twenty times before. Suddenly, this belief was shaken when his son gave a sudden, rage-filled yowl and the bush lost all its leaves.

Standing up immediately, the trio of adults went around the plant to find Scorpius on the ground convulsing with anger and a bloody little hand rose up for all to see.

Lunging for him, Astoria screamed, "Oh Merlin!" And then she tried to pick him up.

The toddler kicked out with a bit too much power and Draco's wife stumbled back, a hand on the tender spot just beneath her breasts. Leaning down, Draco kept his arms up and his body tense as Daphne took care of her sister. Gritting his teeth, the Malfoy heir demanded, "Tell me what happened!"

Somewhere in his pure fury, Draco's son managed to choke, "B-B-Bad, _baaaad buuuuussh_! Hurt! _Hurt_! Hurt!"

Vanishing the bush with a flick of his wand, he screamed over Scorpius, "It's gone now! See? Daddy vanished it!"

His son stopped his tantrum. He was absolutely still then, his slate-eyes inspecting the spot where the bush had once been. With a sudden grin, Scorpius sat up and laughed joyfully. "Bush gone! Bad bush gone!"

"That it is," Draco murmured after a disbelieving blink. Had a bush really worked his son into such frenzy? Why didn't he come running to he or his mother as a normal toddler would to cry about his boo-boo? What was so different about his son that he simply threw himself down and let his magic take out the threat he perceived?

The Malfoy heir just didn't know and it scared him. Picking his son up, he asked Scorpius, "Do you want Mummy to fix your boo-boo?"

Scorpius frowned. Draco pointed at his still bleeding hand. As if suddenly reminded why he'd thrown the tantrum to begin with, he bobbed his head up and down. "Fix! Fix! Fix!" He chanted as he thrust the injury out at a teary-eyed Astoria.

Taking out her wand, she cast a silent healing charm and their toddler's hand was as good as new. Smiling, Scorpius proclaimed, "Good now! Bye-bye!" And then he squirmed away from Draco to explore the garden once again.

Daphne, still holding her sister asked, "Is he...always so intense?"

"Yes," Astoria sniffled. "It's sort of frightening sometimes. But, other times, it can be so sweet. He'll see you're hurting or upset and do everything in his little boy power to make you all better."

And Draco, the ever-darker half to his wife grumbled, "And when he get's angry, he get's _angry_. You just never know what will set him off or how badly. Getting a bump from tumbling off the ottoman? No more legs for_ that _dastardly villain. I think the blood is what caused him to completely kill it..." Then, with a sympathetic look to his sister-in-law, he offered, "We can buy you a new bush."

She waved it off. "I needed to take a few out, anyway."

He had a feeling Daphne just didn't want them to feel any more guilt.

* * *

His mother and Draco sat at a small, round table in his kitchen as the two chat over tea. They didn't talk about anything of true importance, a funny article in the Daily Prophet, about how the Apothecary was, how Father was, Astoria, Scorpius.

"–He's alright," Draco told his mother and just as he said it, his little son came waltzing into the room with his feet muddy and a toad in hand.

Stiffening, the Malfoy heir asked his son, "What have your mother and I told you about bringing those into the house?"

Smiling, slate-eyes were far away as he hugged the ugly creature to his chest. "But, Daddy what if it's a prince?"

"We've _told _you, Scorpius," Draco grumbled. "Those are just stories."

His son narrowed his eyes at him and then, with a serious little frown, took the toad away from his chest and raised it into his line of sight. "_Scorpius _will decide if it's a prince or not!" he declared and before the man could stop him, Scorpius laid a sloppy smooch on the slimy creature.

"Scorpius!" he cried in exasperation.

The little child grinned and with his familiar, hyena-cackle ran away from them; the toad tucked away in his pocket. Draco's mother stirred a bit of honey in her tea and remarked, "Bellatrix did similar things."

"What?"

She shifted her gaze away. "She'd do things to get a rise from our parents, she believed in, and would tell us silly little stories. When she wasn't furiously mad at Andromeda and I for touching her things or doing something annoying, that is."

"Mum," the Malfoy heir warbled, "Do I - should I worry?"

Familiar wrinkles coming around her eyes, his mother brought her tea close and shook her head. "I can't say, Draco, I just can't say."

"His laugh scares me most," he admitted.

Draco's mother took his hand and ran her thumb soothingly over his knuckles. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Maybe the next one-"

"Who says there will be another?" the Malfoy heir hissed, pulling away and crossing his arms. "I don't want another if it will be like-like-_him_." And Draco hated himself. How could he speak so horribly of the son he made and loved? How could he hate Scorpius and say he loved him in the same breath?

Listless, his mother turned back to her tea. "I'm sorry _Toujours pur _has brought you trouble it never brought me. If I had known it skipped as it did..."

"What, Mum? What could you have said? Done? We wanted a baby and Scorpius is as much a light to us as he is a stain."

Meeting her son's gray eyes, Narcissa Malfoy once Black declared, "You may love him, but never _ever _trust him."

"I won't."

Draco felt unnatural, a father was supposed to trust his son.

* * *

"Daddy?" Scorpius whispered as he pressed frigid little fingers to his forehead.

Blinking through the haze, he saw his son's slate-eyes were wide and watching. "Yes, my scorpion?"

"Are you dying?" he asked in that curious, detached way of his.

Draco felt a chuckle catch in his chest. "No, Daddy just ate a bit of bad food."

Fingers falling away, Scorpius smiled and kissed his cheek. "Scorpius will take care of you, okay?"

"Okay," the man agreed. He was sure Astoria wasn't far; she'd make sure to keep an eye on Scorpius.

Almost lovingly, the little child ran his fingers through his father's hair. "Scorpius loves you, Daddy."

"I love you too."

If only Draco's son could always be such a sweet child.

* * *

When Scorpius was eight and all skinny limbs and flyaway blond hair, Draco and Astoria told him he was going to be a big brother. He'd gone from being primly poised on the parlor couch to up on his feet ripping and tearing apart things in ten seconds flat.

"Scorpius!" Draco had yelled at his son, wrenching him away from the bookcase as he tore through the pages of a particularly thick volume. "Scorpius what do you think you're doing?" he screamed, giving the boy a good shake.

Face red and eyes teary, his son shouted, "Making you hurt like Scorpius is!" Throwing himself away from his father's much too hard grip, the child howled, "You don't like Scorpius and you want to replace him, because he's-he's _wrong. _Scorpius isn't stupid, you know! Scorpius sees how you look at him when he gets mad!"

And Draco suddenly realized just how much his terribly broken, gifted child _understood_. Scorpius knew there was something loose in him, he knew it from the way he and his wife shared complicated looks after his fits and eyed Scorpius critically when he was quiet and asked him questions.

His son _knew._

Leaning forward, he took Scorpius in his arms and hugged him tightly. "I'm so _sorry_," he whispered into his sobbing son's hair. "We love you and that's not going to change with the baby."

Astoria having come forward to hug her son as well, kissed his forehead. "Just because you're getting a little brother or sister doesn't mean we're replacing you either, you know. Mummy is the little sister in her family. My parents loved my sister and I equally."

"You don't think the next baby will be better than Scorpius?" their son inquired with wet, slate-eyes.

Draco shook his head. "No," he answered. "You two will be _different_. Neither better or worse."

"Okay, if Mummy and Daddy are sure they won't love the baby more..." Scorpius sniffled as he pulled away.

Relieved that his son appeared to be reassured, Draco smiled at him. "Your mother and I are _certain _we won't love the baby anymore than we love you."

And that seemed to be that. Scorpius didn't hate them, or the coming baby...or, at least it seemed that way for a short while.

-v-v-v-

Stirring in the middle of the night for a reason Draco can't quite decipher, the man reached out, taking his wife under his arm. The nights were getting quite cold and the closer Astoria was, the better. While shift to bring his wife close, the Malfoy heir spied something in the shadows. Sitting up completely with his wand in his grip, Draco saw that it was his _son_. Scorpius was just a foot from the bed with Astoria's wand in his small hand.

It was pointed at-

Draco, without thinking, cast a jelly-leg jinx on his son, causing him to tumble to the ground. Jumping over his wife then, he wrestled the wand from Scorpius and pinned him down to the carpet as his wife put on the lights. Staring into narrowed, slate-eyes, Draco for the first time in his life wanted to truly, absolutely murder someone.

His own son no less.

"What the bloody Hell were you going to do!" he demanded.

Scorpius thinned his lips.

The meeting of flesh filled the otherwise quiet room.

Turning his cheek, Draco's son muttered, "Scorpius was going to kill the baby."

"Why?" the Malfoy heir whispered, releasing his son and slumping back on his bottom.

Sitting up and touching his red face, the child hissed, "Scorpius doesn't _want _a sibling!"

"You-" Astoria warbled from the bed. Looking to her son and then to her belly, she whimpered, "You said you were _okay _with it..."

Scowling and totally unrepentant, Scorpius snarled, "Scorpius _lied_!"

Draco's wife began to cry and he knew he couldn't turn to comfort her with his son still in the room. Jerking his head toward the door, he commanded, "Get out of here."

The child scrambled up and out of the room. Draco cast every locking charm on the door that he knew.

* * *

Shortly after Scorpius tried to kill his new sibling, Astoria went to stay with her sister until the baby was born. It was a boy and she named him Harlan, for her father. When she brought him home to Draco and Scorpius, he'd feared his son's reaction, but instead of getting angry or trying to hurt his new brother, his son took to avoiding him at all costs.

It temporarily relieved Astoria and Draco of worry, but they still refused to ever leave their youngest son alone in any room with Scorpius.

By the time Harlan, or Harly as they affectionately called the baby, was a year old Scorpius had stopped avoiding his brother and instead had moved on to glaring at him and calling him a "dumb baby".

Draco didn't care at this point what Scorpius called his brother, as long as he kept his hands _off _Harly.

-v-v-v-

It was quite late in the evening and Daphne had gone to visit her sister for the weekend, leaving Draco alone with the boys. Scorpius, in the middle of a bout of calm, was quietly reading a book about house elves on one side of his armchair and on the other, Harlan was chewing away on a teething ring whilst playing with a jack-in-the-box.

Sitting there, the pressure on his bladder grew and grew. Knowing he couldn't ignore it much longer, Draco debated interrupting Harly so he could use the loo. Eventually, he decided it would just be quicker to dash off to the toilet and leave the boys here. Alone. It didn't quite sit right with the Malfoy heir, but with a clearing of his throat he announced his plan.

"I'm going to use the loo," and then, with a stern look at Scorpius, he warned, "I'll be just a minute."

Rolling his eyes, Scorpius remarked, "Like I needed to know that, Dad."

A noticeable benefit to having Harly come into their lives was that his oldest son no longer referred to himself in third-person. Maybe he had realized now that the world was not centered on Scorpius, after all, it was quite hard to believe such with another little life demanding attention just as he did in the house.

With one last look at his two sons, Draco reminded them both, "I'll be just down the hall."

Barely a minute into pissing, he heard a scream. Cursing God and everything else, Draco did up his pants and ran to the parlor. There, he found Harlan bawling with a little hand on his cheek and Scorpius looking teary-eyed beside him.

"He was - I just - I didn't-" his older son babbled as the Malfoy heir pushed him aside to pick up his baby.

Checking him over, all Draco found was a mark on his son's cheek that would soon be a nasty bruise. Anger flaring to life in his chest, Draco turned on his son. "Who the bloody Hell do you think your are? I leave you alone for a _minute _and you do this! Merlin, Scorpius! How can you hate your own brother so much?"

Outright sobbing, Scorpius shook his head and leaned forward as if he wanted a hug. He refused his son and growled, "Tell me. _Now_."

"He was b-being _loud _and I just wanted him to quiet! I didn't think I-I hit him that _haaard_!"

Grabbing his son's chin, Draco made slate-eyes meet his. "If you _ever _try and touch your brother again, you'll be sent away, do you understand me?"

"Don't!" Scorpius screamed, grabbing onto his father's wrist. "Don't send me away..."

At a loss, the Malfoy heir could only shake his head. "Harlan is your _brother_, you have to care for him. He _needs _you to love him, just like you both need us to love you."

Sniffling and trying his hardest to get _closer_, Scorpius whimpered. "Daddy, I'll take good care of him. Just don't send me _away_."

"I won't, if you don't make me," he promised as he hugged both his sons close and kissed their heads.

After that, Scorpius was an exemplary brother. Smiling and encouraging Harly at every turn - Draco and Astoria still never trusted him to be alone with his younger brother.

* * *

It was a gloomy day. All rain and cold weather and somewhere upstairs, Harly is clomping around with his mother. Draco was downstairs working on a letter to his mother and father in the study and it was then that an awful smell found him. Getting up, he followed it all the way to the kitchen.

There, he saw Scorpius standing beside the oven. His face was slack and Scorpius's lean fingers were twitching at his side. Inspecting closer, he saw there was a bit of a puddle by the boy's feet and that his son has a few scratches on his face.

"What's that smell, Scorpius?" Draco demanded as he came into the room.

The boy's slate eyes calm, he said, "The cat, I figure."

Draco felt himself sputter as he tried to find the right words to properly ask his next question. "The _cat_? Where's Marm, Scorpius!"

"In the oven," his son answered.

The Malfoy heir ran to the oven and threw it open, only to see the frightful sight of the family's dead cat. "No," he whispered. "No, no, no." Backing away, he didn't even have the sense to vanish it.

Peeking in, Scorpius became visibly upset. "What's wrong with Marmalade? Dad he's not _moving_!"

"He's dead!" Draco wheezed from where he'd curled himself into a loose ball in a kitchen chair. "You killed our cat, Scorpius!"

His son began to weep. "He was wet! I just wanted to dry him off quick!" he cried. He stared at the boy. He couldn't be telling the truth, could he? Surely he was too old… but he seemed so _sincere_. "Daddy, Daddy," Scorpius chanted. "I didn't _mean _to!" he wailed as Draco came close.

It took all of the Draco's will power not to recoil from his own son. Instead, he opened his arms and took the boy in to harbor him. "It's okay," he soothed. "It's okay…"

And he really tried to believe it; Scorpius couldn't possibly have meant to kill their cat. Even so, Draco couldn't stop the doubt blooming in his chest, as his cat's remains stayed in his field of sight.

(If he could have seen his son's face, he would have shoved Scorpius away in a second).

* * *

Fighting their way through the Hogsmeade back-to-Hogwarts crowds, Draco kept a firm hand on Harly as Scorpius darted back and forth between them and things that caught his eye. At one point, his son, a blinding grin on his face returned to their side yelling, "Dad! Mum! Can we get my wand now? I see the shop right there!"

This should be a happy event, Draco knew, but all he felt was dread. The day he had to send his son into the world was coming ever closer and he was no nearer to knowing what was wrong with his son – let alone to fixing it. Astoria, from beside Draco, smiled and took his hand.

"I guess we can, don't you agree, my dragon?" she asked.

Draco nodded. "We might as well, if it's so close." Putting a hand to the side of his mouth, he shouted, "Okay! We'll go there now!"

His son gave a delighted whoop and rushed to the store. Hurrying after, he looked to little Harly next to him. "Are you paying attention, lad? In a couple of years you'll get to do all the same things as your brother is now."

Harly, who took after Astoria more in feature, declared with appropriate child-seriousness, "I hate shopping."

"Then you can have your brother's old books and robes. If he doesn't ruin them, that is," Draco's wife said.

Clearing his throat, he started, "Malfoy's don't–"

"Oh, can it, Draco," Astoria clucked. "He's part Greengrass too and we aren't nearly as showy."

Draco chuckled and said, "We should probably hurry. Scorpius is glaring at us."

"Probably," she agreed with a smile.

And the mother, father and younger son went to join their Hogwarts bound child.

-v-v-v-

Scorpius went through a sizable amount of wands at first, each failure making him more frustrated and leading to even worse reactions from the wands he tried. It almost looked like his son would destroy the shop before he would even _get _a wand, but then Ollivander handed him one more.

"Try this young man, it's a twelve and three fourth inch walnut wand with a dragon heartstring for a core."

Appraising the bent thing with a dubious eye, his son took it and waved it in a snappish motion. Immediately, a row of wands he'd knocked down previously corrected themselves.

Draco, Astoria, and Harly clapped. "Wonderful!" Draco's wife grinned. "You have a wand, my scorpion!"

His son smiled back at them. "I like it," he told them.

"You should," Draco declared. "It's yours."

Ollivander took back the wand then and put it in its' case. He then looked to Draco and Astoria with a wary sort of expression before putting on a thin smile as he told their son, "You know, I sold a wand just like that to your Great Aunt Bellatrix."

The name made Draco's heart stop. _Bellatrix. _A wand just like the one in his son's hand had rested in his aunt's. Feeling a cold sweat start up, he wondered if Scorpius was just as broken as she. Was there no hope for his firstborn? Was he already too far gone for saving? They should have drowned him like a cat years–

No, despite his son's faults, Draco _loved _him. To think of killing him now was blasphemy.

"Oh?" Scorpius hummed as he accepted the wand. "That's nice, thank you, sir!" And with it now in his grasp, he hugged his wand's case close to his cheek. After a moment, Scorpius turned to his parents and asked, "May we get my books next?"

Astoria was the one to answer, as Draco's tongue still felt too thick to talk. "Of course, my love," she whispered and quickly paying the wand-maker, they rush out of the shop.

Walking the streets, Scorpius's curious slate-eyes looked to them. "Who's Bellatrix? I don't think I've heard of her," he said.

"She was a Death Eater, one of the most loyal, actually," Draco told his son.

Perking up, Scorpius seemed to consider what he said. "Loyal, huh? That sounds like a good thing to be. People like a person who's going to stand by them, don't they?"

"They do," Astoria replied. "But your aunt did a lot of bad things too."

Scorpius bobbed his head agreeably to what his mother had said. "Oh, I know she must have," he said. "But if I'm going to have her wand, I should try and redeem it, don't you think? What better way than using her best quality to do it?"

The Malfoy heir didn't like his son's logic, but at least he was not plotting for world domination. So, leaning over, he ruffled his son's hair and whispered, "Do your best, lad."

His son grinned like he'd given him the world.

(Draco's frightened for their and everyone else's future).

* * *

After hugging, and waving his sons goodbye, Harry Potter left his wife, daughter, and godson to approach Draco and his wife.

Wearing the smile of an accomplished father, he asked, "How do you feel? Are you proud?"

"I've never felt more so," Draco lied.

* * *

**Whew! This took me quite a long while to write! You'll have to let me know what you think. This a two part fic and the next is about Scorpius's time in Hogwarts and maybe a little bit after. I'm hoping to have the next part up sometime by October? Who knows, we'll have to see how College goes.**

**Next I want to give a big thank you to The Dark One Rising, KodeV and That One Eccedentesiast who helped me in deciding what direction I wanted to take with this fic!**

**Thank you for reading and pretty please review!**

**EDITED: 6/9/15**


	2. Part II

**_Cuckoo Boy_**

* * *

Just as his brother had teased him and he had feared, Albus Severus Potter found himself sorted to Slytherin. His dad had told him one of his namesakes was from there and he was the bravest man he ever knew, but that wasn't the same as saying it was okay to be Slytherin, was it? With glum thoughts in mind, Albus believed so.

(If only he hadn't become a statue when the hat began to speak).

Walking to his new house's table, there wasn't clapping right away and Albus felt an awful blush rising up on his Weasley-pale skin. But before he could turn the vermilion tone he was known to under great moments of humiliation or anger, a small hand poked out above all of the Slytherin heads.

"Over here!" they called.

Following the hand down to its face, Albus saw it was connected to the Malfoy heir, Scorpius. The kid Uncle Ron had wanted Rosie to beat at every turn. His face was illuminated with a smile and his slate-eyes glinting with something not quite kind. If Albus had cared more for the likes of reading American Gothic, he might have read _The Tell-Tale Heart_ and recalled a certain line of the piece later in his life, at which point he'd feel a certain chilling connection:

_Now this is the point. You fancy me a mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded…_

But he was eleven, innocent and much too sane. So, the offer was accepted with all of the relief of a terrified child whilst the house that he would now call his began to clap. But it was too late for the house of Slytherin, Albus Severus Potter, named for their most famous Head of House, would only be theirs in name.

Scorpius Malfoy had reached out first and from there on out, Albus would be loyal only to him.

* * *

The next day, just after breakfast, under the early morning sun in the courtyard when Albus introduced his best (and only) friend of Slytherin to his cousins and brother, he hadn't quite expected the situation to go as it had.

Giving the gaggle a good once over, Scorpius tipped his head back wearing a sly smirk and declared, "Wow Al, you're right! They really do carry the Weasley stereotypes, redheads and freckles the lot of 'em." Turning back to Albus then, he'd complimented him with a sugar-laced tone, "It's a good thing thing you got your daddy's pretty green eyes."

Albus, speechless, had found himself locked somewhere in the middle ground of wanting to be embarrassed, pleased, and annoyed with Scorpius. It would be his cousin, Rose, who made him settle on an emotion. Her, the epitome of Weasley traits, stepped forward and demanded in her Aunt Hermione "I'm the boss" voice:

"Albus, did you really say that about us to him?"

Suddenly defensive of the only friend that he didn't count as family, Albus set his jaw and snapped, "So what if I did?" Jabbing a finger into her face, he sneered at Rose. "I mean, look at you Rosie! You do look just like what everyone thinks of when they say Weasley! Redhead! Freckles! Pale!"

She made a face that told Albus just how insulted she felt, but before he could feel badly about what he'd said, he turned heel and gave his first and only command to Scorpius.

"Let's go, Scorpius!" he ordered.

If Albus had seen the way his new friend winked at his cousins and brother as they left, he might have known better just what he was getting himself into.

* * *

Despite the way he set his family on edge, Scorpius was some kind of god incarnate to their fellow Slytherins and he had schmoozed every professor so successfully that by week two of classes, Scorpius could get away with just about anything and everything with little more than a slap on the wrist. It drove Albus to both admire him and hate him in the same thought.

He was glad to have a friend like Scorpius on his side… However, he didn't like the fact that everyone else (exempting his cousins and brother) liked him too. If Albus were to consider it longer, he knew he would find the feeling that nagged him was jealousy with a good helping of fear. Albus was scared that Scorpius would realize he liked of the another Slytherin, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw, maybe even a Gryffindor, better than him and ditch Albus in some empty classroom to hangout with them instead.

After a long day, where at every turn Scorpius was taken from him to speak or partake in someone else's company, Albus felt overly frustrated and upset. Would it be better if he just severed their friendship now? While he could still squeeze himself into a new clique with little trouble?

Stalking the halls of Hogwarts in the late evening with curfew hanging over his head, Albus was in-route for deciding yes, ( _Merlin_ **_yes_**_!)_ When his missing mate seemingly appeared out of thin air.

Scorpius's slate-eyes were pulled up along with the impish grin on his lips as he threw an affectionate arm over Albus's shoulder. "Hey there, Al!" he called with a voice that was just a bit too loud for the quiet corridor. "I feel like I haven't gotten to talk to you all day!"

"You haven't," Albus grumbled back in reply.

Pulling away slightly, his friend blinked like couldn't quite fathom the truth. "Really?" he whispered.

Trying to separate himself further, Albus turned his head, hurt. He wasn't sure if Scorpius had truly been oblivious or if he'd simply been trying to make light of things, but neither possibility made him feel any better. Seeing that he'd done wrong, Scorpius tugged him so close that their foreheads were touching and his eyes had to stare into his.

The usual twinkle of mirth gone, Scorpius whispered, "Hey."

"Hey," Albus croaked back as he felt a familiar sting begin somewhere in the back of his eyes.

Scorpius's hand fell away from Albus's arm and came to settle on the back of his neck instead. There, Scorpius gripped Albus in a deceptively strong hold with his slim fingers. "I chose you first," Scorpius murmured. "And because of that, you will always be first to me, got it?"

Something a little like pride and love mixed together and unfurled in his chest. Albus smiled. "Yeah, I got it."

A squeeze later, Scorpius let him go and stood back up with a tall head and offered hand. "So, best mates?"

"Best mates," he agreed with an even wider grin as they shook on it.

And for the rest of their schooldays and then some, Albus would be confident in his ranking with Scorpius. He was first.

* * *

Alone, Albus held his head in his hands as he stared down at his Transfiguration notes. The equations were just _impossible_! What in the bloody Hell did he need that number for? Maybe he was supposed to multiply it by something? Pushing himself away from the table, he let his arms fall limply into his lap and took to staring at the library bookshelves to contemplate. It didn't take long, however, for his mind to wander from Transfiguration and to the titles lining the shelves. Some of them looked quite interesting. Perhaps he'd have to add them to his list of "Books I (maybe) Want to Read before I Leave Hogwarts".

Sighing, Albus thought of how he could be reading one of those books right now if he'd allowed Scorpius to help him with Transfiguration. A smile tugged at his mouth. Scorpius was so _brilliant _when it came to Transfiguration and he was always willing to lend a helping hand. There was only one problem, however, that came with asking for his mate's help.

Scorpius had a penchant for simply taking over if Albus wasn't quick enough to figure it out himself. That was great and all, but if he didn't learn how to do it himself he was going to fail their exams and then it wouldn't matter then if he turned in E worthy papers. Homework was only worth so much in comparison to exam grades. Plus, despite how difficult it was, Albus really did want to learn. The idea of turning a snake into a flower was wicked and he couldn't wait to figure out how to do it all by himself.

Albus's daydream was interrupted suddenly by an unexpected body slipping into the chair across from him. Focusing his gaze on the other, he saw that it was his cousin, up ramrod straight, he exclaimed, "Rose!"

Rose's lips lifted in a smile, but her shoulders were tense and her eyes bounced from bookcase, to table, to bookcase, to Albus; like she couldn't stand to look at him. Albus didn't like it. She was up to something and he didn't know that he wanted to play along. Finally looking at him for more than an intake of a breath, Rose smiled wider and said, "Hi Albus."

"It's Al," he corrected.

She chuckled. "What, is the name Uncle Harry gave you too long?"

Albus shrugged. It was more like he didn't care for how everyone asked him if he planned to be headmaster when he grew up with a name like his. Crossing his arms, he looked at his cousin and wondered where she'd been for the past year and a half. Sure, she didn't like Scorpius, but Rose could have easily come around during the times he wasn't with his friend (like now) or over holidays too.

But she hadn't and Albus needed to know what she wanted right now because his Transfiguration work wasn't going to finish itself.

So, without further niceties, he demanded, "Rose, what do you want?"

"Um," she said. Fingers reaching for her hair, she began to swirl and twist it, causing her to look very much less at ease. She stood up. "Can we talk?" she asked, "Like somewhere else?"

He toyed with the idea of saying no, but after one look at her large, pleading eyes Albus didn't have the heart to say no.

"Okay."

-v-v-v-

In a room full of dusty desks, long shadows, and silence Albus Severus Potter stared at his crying cousin. She'd just told that she thought Scorpius was hogging Albus from everyone else he knew and that she felt his best mate was scary.

"You're wrong," he said. "He does _not _stop me from hanging out with others. And scary? C'mon, Rose, he's always smiling and offering help to others. Scorpius is friendly."

Shaking her head, Rose leaned forward and grabbed his hand. "Okay, if he doesn't hog you, who else do you call a friend? Besides Scorpius?"

Albus had to look away and with a dry mouth blurted the first name that came to mind. "Lily," he declared. "Lily's my friend too."

"She's your little sister."

Furious, he ripped his hand away from Rose. "Is Hugo just your little brother!"

She bit her lip and brought her hands together, rubbing the skin on them red with her worry. Taking a step this way, then that way, she finally spun around and pushed herself right up against him and with eyes far too close and big, she hissed:

"He's so possessive of you, Albus! I've been waiting all week to find some time to talk to you alone!"

Pushed even further into his rage, he knocks her back with an arm. "Oh please! You're just mad that my best friend isn't you!"

Rose began to sob. "That's not-" she hiccups and wipes at her eyes. "Please, I don't need you to be friends with me… Just make a friend that isn't Scorpius's too!"

Unaffected by what he believed were "crocodile tears" of jealousy, Albus scoffed as he brushed past his cousin.

"Well, isn't that a stupid idea? Everyone is friends with Scorpius. That is, everyone except _you_."

And he left.

Rose stayed in that classroom a long time after, crying, crying, crying for her cousin who was too in-love with a boy who was wrong.

* * *

"Hi, does Scorpius live here?"

A boy, about six, with glassy blue eyes and dirty-blond looked up with a solemn stare from where he stood in the austere, olive green hall of what Albus had thought was the Malfoy Manor.

"Yeah," he answered after a beat.

Albus smiled. "Is he in?"

"Yeah."

Seeing the game the little one was playing, he leaned in with an even wider smile and asked, "Will you let him know I want to talk to him?"

"Scorpius says I'm not to–"

The child was cut off by an old woman's rebuke. "Harlan!"

They both looked to see a fine lady glaring at them both, sweeping forward, she leaned down and swept the boy – now Harlan – up in her arms with the strength of a woman half her age. "Harlan what have I told you about answering the floo?"

Twisting in her arms, the boy fussed. "But Grandma! He wants to talk to brother!"

Brother? Scorpius had a little brother? He never mentioned sibling and Albus had always assumed that Scorpius was an only child given his attitude…

"Ah," the woman murmured. Looking to him then, Scorpius's grandmother apologetically told him, "He's indisposed young man, he's in the throws of one of his 'headaches'."

Albus winced. He'd witnessed a few of his friend's migraines at school. It was one of the few times Scorpius was anything but himself. During his "headaches", his friend was almost cruel. It was like he hated them all. Nothing they said or did was right. And a couple times, Scorpius had put silencing spells on their roommates. It was a frightening thing to witness, but Scorpius always made up for it later with apologies and kind actions which meant no one ever held his awful behavior against him.

"Oh, that's alright," Albus told her. "My dad he just got some surprise tickets to a Quidditch game and - well, I'll just write him later."

The regal lady nodded. "I think that would be a responsible plan of action," she concurred.

"Bye then," he concluded.

Later, when Albus began to write Scorpius a letter he considered asking why Scorpius never spoke about his little brother, but he scratched that idea because it felt too accusatory. Scorpius was his best mate, there had to be a reason why his friend never spoke about Harlan.

(There had to be).

* * *

"The ghosts are terrible actors," Albus grumbled.

Scorpius, laughing, tipped into Albus's lap in the process of rising up from his perch on the arm of Albus's chair. Not trying to get up from his new spot, Scorpius smiled and made himself comfortable in Al's lap by tucking himself flush against Albus's throat. Fingers playing with the buttons of Al's shirt, Scorpius's whiskey-dulled eyes looked up at the now stiff Albus.

Grinning, Scorpius whispered, "Yer warm."

"I'm pissed."

Scorpius laughed again and lifted his head, lips brushing along Al's jaw. "You're funny," he said.

Albus wanted to kiss him. Every drunk girl that ended up in Scorpius's lap got to kiss him, so why shouldn't he get to kiss him? He was drunk. Scorpius was drunk. If he didn't like guys when he was sober, Scorpius could tell him so and Albus could blame it on being sloshed.

It wouldn't hurt less, he knew, but it could save their friendship (or Albus hoped, anyway).

Taking a chance, Al touched his lips quickly to Scorpius's. His friend's eyes fluttered, grin taking on a cheshire quality.

"Hey, Al?" Scorpius whispered.

Struggling not to be overwhelmed with more intense feelings, Albus croaked, "Yeah?"

"What d'you think of starting a club? For respectable wizards and witches."

He was taken back. Was that what Scorpius wanted to talk about? After they just kissed? Feeling very much like crying, Albus just may have if Scorpius hadn't touched his cheek. "Hey love?" he said, "why're you cryin'?"

"I'm not," Al sniffled. "I just – a club?"

Slate-eyes brightened. "Yeah! It will be one of those clubs where you do good stuff for the community and such and follow a code of respectable behavior. Like staying in our world and not dallying in the muggle one," Scorpius explained to him.

"That sounds…" he trailed off. Not quite wanting to voice what he thought of such a club.

Scorpius seemed to sense just what he was thinking and crinkled his nose at him. "C'mon Al, don't get all broody like that. Just because I want to start a club with a more conservative view doesn't mean it's bad."

"I don't know, Scorpius, our parents were just in a war about muggles and wizards…"

"It's not like that! The club is about setting up witches and wizards to be loyal to the wizarding world. Not ruling or killing them. The issue is, the muggles have all those ideas, but what do they do with them? They don't use them for anything good, they fight over them."

Then with a saccharine smile, he pulled himself up and kissed Albus. "If they all just pledged to leave the muggle world alone, they wouldn't know about all those silly ideas and they'd be happy with how things are here." Pulling away to meet Al's gaze, he declared, "Besides, everyone knows it's when little witches and wizards start to get ideas about changing things that work is when friction and wars begin, Al."

While it sounded good, it didn't feel like a great idea to Albus. However, not wanting to start a fight with Scorpius just as he was beginning to return his affections, Albus relented. "I guess," he agreed.

"So, you will help me?"

He found himself nodding and when his best mate kissed him hard in his elation, all Albus could do was moan, "Yes, _yes_."

-v-v-v-

The next morning, once sober, it felt like he had committed himself to the devil. He can't go back now, though, because Scorpius was so excited about creating their secret little club. Al just didn't have the heart to dim that glow in his slate-stone hued eyes.

It was so_ alive_.

* * *

Walking beside his little sister, Albus listened to her babble about her Divination class and all the drama that happened during it. Admittedly, most of the time, the stories Lily tells were quite funny – she had quite the a knack for putting a humorous twist to mundane events (and not so mundane events). Today, however, Albus just couldn't get into her story. He felt like someone was watching him. That couldn't be right, though. Why would anyone be watching them? The novelty of seeing _Harry Potter's _children usually wore off for first years by this time of year.

Perhaps it was Scorpius? But it couldn't be. He was in Care of Magical Creatures and it wasn't like his friend ever did much watching from a far, anyway. He liked being close to Albus; touching him, holding him, distracting him. Plus, he enjoyed Lily's stories just as much as he did.

"_When I'm in the Minister of Magic, you're going to be the only journalist I allow near me, Lily,_" he liked to say.

"Al?" Lily called, trying to grab his attention by tugging at his sleeve.

He whipped his head to look down at his sister. He'd gotten the Weasley height and then some. Now he towered over his whole family –James included. That was a perk, he'd admit, but sometimes he wished he was smaller, if only so strangers and acquaintances alike didn't feel intimidated by him.

"Yea–"

Two people cut between them.

"Sorry Lily-flower, we have to talk to our dear Albus," a voice - James - told their sister as another person, Rose, pulled at him.

Yanking back his arm, he snapped, "Hey! Quit it!"

James, his usually grinning face grim, said, "We want to talk with you, Albus."

"It's Al!"

Rose was biting her lip, Lily not far behind her - hovering - and James. James just gestured for him to walk. He could have told his brother no, but Albus chose not to.

Instead, he walked a way.

Lily, from behind them, shouted, "Al!"

"It's fine, Lily, I'll talk with you later!" he yelled back as Rose and James took up the space on either side of them.

Lily said no more, so he guessed she was alright and he could fill her in later when he liked.

-v-v-v-

Outside in the cold and frost, Albus rubbed at his arms and asked, "So? What do you two want to talk to me about?"

"It's Scorpius's little club," Rose spat.

He found himself rolling his eyes. Always Scorpius with her! One might believe she was jealous of Albus and wanted to shag Scorpius herself! But, despite the ever-growing rift between himself and his cousin, Al knew this wasn't the case. So, instead, he sneered. "Yeah? What about it? Do you dislike seeing our peers learning to follow rules?"

"Don't be a prat," James growled. "You know exactly what's wrong with that club! It's everything Dad fought to end!"

Defensive, Albus snarled, "It is not!"

Before they fell into an argument of "is not!" and "is too!", Rose pushed forward and with weary eyes, whispered, "Some of us are scared, Albus."

"Of what? Unity?" he demanded.

Rose tried to take his hand, but he pulled it out of reach and she deflated. "You don't see how some of them look at the poor Muggleborns. It's like they think they're evil," she said.

Sighing in irritation, Albus rolled his eyes. "Stop being a couple of ninnys. Pick a side, won't you? Either you agree that we should be loyal to the magical world or you think we should mix with the Muggle one and fuck ourselves over."

"Albus, listen to what you're saying, that's everything Dad fought against! We're supposed to be more better than that! By closing ourselves up like that prick wants, we'll only be hurting our world in the long run."

Ignoring what he didn't like, Al picked out what was important and said, "So, you're against us."

"No!" Rose cried at the same time that James affirmed Albus's statement.

"Yes!"

He raised an eyebrow at his cousin and she deflated. "Yes…" she warbled.

Albus nodded. "You've dug your own grave." Rubbing at his cold arms, he turned away and headed for the warmth of Hogwarts's halls.

-v-v-v-

Curled around each other, Albus played with the long strands of his best mates hair while distantly remarked to Scorpius, "I talked to my brother and cousin. They think your club is a Neo-Death Eater group in the making."

Turning so his face was now facing Al, his slate-eyes were steely. "Oh, do they?" Scorpius said.

"Yeah." He yawned.

Kissing his nose, Albus's mate whispered, "Well, don't you worry your little head about it, love. I'll take care of it."

At the next Quidditch game, James fell off his broom and was subsequently benched for the rest of the season.

One morning, all of Rose's hair fell out. After being bald for a week, it grew back. But now it was a shocking neon-pink that could not be fixed.

It was shortly after these events that Scorpius questioned him about his younger sister.

"Lily, she's always been a good girl…"

Looking up over his textbook, Albus raised an eyebrow. "What about, Lils?"

"She doesn't think like your brother and cousin, does she?"

Albus shook his head. "No. Actually, she kind of adores you. She thinks you're the smartest man to exist since Salazar Slytherin himself."

Scorpius preened under the compliment and not too long after, a boy she hit it off with invited Lily into their little club.

They were a power couple of Hogwarts within a month.

And Al? He learned not to talk about what people did, or said, to Scorpius.

* * *

Albus invited Scorpius over for Boxing day during their sixth year. He wanted his parents to meet his friend and maybe, maybe then he'd have the courage to tell them that Al and his friend were a little more than just Best mates.

That afternoon, over tea, Scorpius appeared to charm his parents. Albus was feeling very proud of himself, because they seemed to like him a lot more than they'd liked Lily's boyfriend last summer and when he said goodbye to Scorpius, just outside their home, he told him.

"I think they really liked you."

Slate-eyes glinting, Scorpius smirked. "Of course," he agreed. "I'm perfect."

Al had picked up over the years that when Scorpius said things like that, he actually meant it. But as strange as it was, he'd come to find it kind of charming. A flaw among perfection - it was one of the few things that made him feel truly human to Albus and he loved Scorpius all the more for it.

"I'll write you later," he told his mate – sealing it with a kiss.

Daring for a bit of tongue before separating, Al's friend laughed. "I know you will," and then he left.

Coming back into his home, Albus saw his father sitting all alone on the sofa. Curious, he questioned the man, "Dad?"

"He doesn't feel right, Albus."

Suddenly crushed, he turned his back on his father. "You don't know anything, Dad," he hissed.

Sadly, Harry got up and came over to squeeze his shoulder and murmured, "I love you, son, but he's a bad sort and you need to know that."

Albus wrote his father off that evening, and told himself again and again over the next decade that his father didn't know anything.

* * *

Lounging in the designated snogging closest, Al and Scorpius were doing very little of the expected activity and instead were back-to-back talking about their lives to come.

"Me? I'm going to be a politician."

Al laughed. "Of course you'd pick that as your career!"

Shifting slightly so he can catch his best mate's eye, Scorpius demanded to know his own future plans. "What about you, Al? What's your plan?"

He was looking forward to being a librarian, but it felt silly to say it aloud. He wasn't even done with his schooling and he was already planning to live the life of a sixty-year-old man...Blushing, Al whispered, "I want to be a librarian."

"That's a joke, isn't it?" Scorpius demanded with clear disapproval.

He stayed silent.

Sighing, Scorpius shifted and kissed his cheek. "C'mon Al, is that really all you plan to do with that brilliant brain of yours? You should be my right hand man."

"I don't know…"

Another kiss.

"Scorpius," he sighed.

Fingers dug into his chest as his friend clung to him from behind. "You're my best mate," Scorpius breathed. "I can't imagine having anyone else at my side."

"Okay," Al relented.

It was sad to let go of his dream, but if it meant he'd always be by Scorpius's side… Well, Albus Severus Potter decided he wasn't too disappointed.

* * *

Al cried silent, hollow tears in the Malfoy Manor's kitchen as the festivities happened outside of it. Scorpius married someone today. But it wasn't Al. No, it was some little harlot! Which, if he wasn't so raw and angry, Al would have admitted was a far from accurate description. Colette Zabini was a beautiful woman. Darkly colored with long tresses, long limbs and piercing sable eyes.

Collette was a perfect specimen of witch.

She was pure too (in every sense).

However, none of that mattered in the moment. All that did was that Scorpius wasn't Al's anymore. Reflecting, he remembered their conversation about his best mate's coming marriage:

"_Look, to prove you're a potent man, they expect you to marry a woman and have children_."

"_Surely–_"

"_Al_."

"_I… Alright_."

"_This doesn't change the fact that you're my best mate._"

And it may have settled him for a moment to hear that, but now it just didn't matter. Scorpius was legally Colette's and not his! Dabbing at his eyes, Al decided he'd done enough moping for the time being when–

"Oh excuse me…"

He looked up. Before him stood an old, regal lady wearing a stunning dress and emerald brooch on her collar.

Blushing, Al mumbled, "No, excuse me."

Her lips thinned and she gazed at him for a long time. "You're - You're that boy that stopped by my son's house asking for Scorpius once, weren't you?"

Surprised that she remembered him after all these years (especially when he didn't remember her), he found all he could do was nod. "Yeah, I am."

She smiled only for it to fall away as her hand touched his cheek. "Why are you crying young man?"

"I – Scorpius is s-supposed to be mine!" he sobbed.

Taking him in her arms, she pet his head and shushed him. "Oh, my poor boy," she whispered. "My sister used to make her husband feel as you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he inquired as he pulled away to clean up his face.

Her old eyes clouded. "I really think you should talk to my son about that," she imparted.

"Okay," he agreed.

It was cryptic and Al wondered if she wasn't just a bit senile, but in the end he decided it wouldn't hurt. If he ran into Scorpius's father, he'd ask him. If not? Well, he didn't mind not knowing.

He wasn't sure he wanted to, anyway.

* * *

Six years pass before Al bumped into Draco and just Draco. By then, Scorpius was quickly rising through the ranks of the ministry. He was the charismatic hopeful, the devoted husband and doting father of two shy daughters and infant son. Scorpius was, in essence, the perfect man coming ever close to the perfect moment.

But, despite what his outside appearance told the world, Al was still his best mate and as such, he got to have certain kinds of "fun" no one else did. And they had their "fun" in his office at the ministry, no less. At the moment, Al had just finished with one of their "lunches" in Scorpius's office and was now on his way to talk to some hopeful donor. Walking into an elevator, he looked up from his papers and was surprised by the sight of Draco Malfoy.

"What are you doing here?" he gasped.

The older man cocked his head in mild confusion. "I'm on my way to see my son," he replied.

Scorpius's grandmother's reminder floating through his head, he grabbed the older man's arm. "Does Scorpius know you're coming to see him?"

"No…" Draco replied, trying to extract his arm.

Staring the man down, Al told him, "I want to have coffee with you. Right now."

"Okay," Scorpius's father agreed with a raised eyebrow. "I guess I don't need to see Scorpius that badly. Where do you have in mind?"

-v-v-v-

Their hands wrapped around their coffee mugs, the two men stared at one another across the small table. Neither spoke, and the coffee grew cold, but still Al did not know how to begin to question the man before him. In fact, he wasn't sure he wanted to know anymore. What was wrong with trusting his best mate to be who he seemed to be?

Everything was wrong, evidently.

Clearing his throat, Draco leaned back and began, "If we're done here…"

"No!"

A stern glare came his way and Al blushed.

"Sorry," he whispered. Looking at the dark liquid in his mug, Al said "I talked to your mum once, she said Scorpius was like her sister."

Draco deflated greatly and seemed to age right before his very eyes. A small smile pulling at his lips, he mumbled, "Did she, now?"

"Yeah."

He sat up a little straighter and began to rub at his forehead. "Okay, I will tell you what I know, but listen to me now."

And Al did.

"I love my son. More than I probably should given, well, everything, but you need to understand, there's something wrong with Scorpius."

He didn't want to believe it, but as his best mate's dad wove the tales of Scorpius and doubts and fears he had about his friend during his childhood, Al started to see. Scorpius wasn't who he appeared to be. Once Draco wound down from his story, he only had one question:

"What do you think he's trying to do now, then?"

Rubbing a hand up and down his face, tired eyes bore into Al's green.

"He was always possessive of what he viewed as his and very insecure of his place, as Harly proved. At this point, he probably thinks our whole world belongs to him and has gone in fight mode to keep it so."

It was scary to think that Scorpius might be plotting war, but his friend's father was smiling. "I used to think it was sort of sweet how possessive he was - it felt like it was the only way he knew how to say he loved Astoria and I, but…" Draco chuckled. "I guess with older eyes and Harly, I see that his possessiveness was never love and I just feel sort of hollow about it all."

Al frowned. "Before you started, you said you loved him."

"I do," the older man affirmed. "I love him with everything. It's just Scorpius can't love me – or anyone – back."

Getting up, he felt his heart shattering, but wanted to deny the truth of it.

"Yeah?" He scoffed at Scorpius's father. "Well, he loves me."

Then, without any goodbyes, Al left Draco, father of Scorpius Malfoy, stunned and alone in a little café on the corner block two streets down from the Ministry.

* * *

Things dissolved over the course of the next year. With the knowledge he had from Scorpius's father, along with all the warnings he'd received over the course of his life, Al began to see his best mate in a new light. He was sharp of tongue, manipulative, rigid, and arrogant. He expected everyone to look at him as if he was God incarnate or expect the consequences.

As he noticed these things, Al grew more quiet, more reserved and had begun to visit his parents on a much more frequent note. This, of course, hadn't gone unnoticed by his friend. Scorpius commented on it many times and was increasingly showing his dissatisfaction with Al. Not that he really cared too much anymore.

He knew who, and what, Scorpius was.

It was one early evening when his friend asked him to stay after a meeting that Albus worked up the necessary courage to begin his line of questioning.

"What are you going to do once you're Minister of Magic, Scorpius?"

Slate-eyes glinted and he smiled. "Make our world better, of course, love."

"How?" Al demanded.

Smaller fingers slipping into his hair as Scorpius lowered himself onto Al's lap, he smiled prettily and said to him, "By any means necessary."

It was a foreboding answer. Al feared what he would learn next. "What type of world are you going to make, Scorpius?"

"First, I will restrict travel to the muggle world, then I will screen the incoming Muggleborns – eventually, I hope we can just take the promising ones from their families when they are very small and place them in proper wizard families to be raised."

This world sounded like death to his ears.

Pawing at his shirt collar, Scorpius whispered into Al's ear, "But let's not talk about that when we could have...fun."

"No," he disagreed, pushing his best mate away. "You're planning to make our world into a goddamn magical North Korea, Scorpius, and you act like that's nothing!"

Frowning, slate-eyes were dulling rapidly. "So? What's so wrong with that, Al? We'd be implicating their practice more efficiently, so people would be much happier here than they are there." Seeing that this was not the winning argument that he'd hoped it would be, his friend murmured, "Don't you remember? We've made our stand on he base idea that everything would be better if we stopped dabbling in a world we did not understand and coming back with new idea, after new idea, to apply here in our world when we already have a working system."

"I remember."

Trying to curl himself back beneath Al's chin, Scorpius whispered, "Come on, Al, don't tell me you've just figured out what we've been doing all these years!"

Seeing him for who he truly was then, Al groped around and grabbed a sharp object from the little table beside him and began to stab his best mate to death.

"Al! Al!" he tried to cry, but with innate intelligence, Albus Severus Potter knew he had to silence his once-friend quickly and sliced his throat.

Stilling then, Scorpius Malfoy lay rapidly paling and bloody in Al's lap. Slate-eyes filled with betrayal, the man croaked, "You were my first..." before all the life fled him in a final breath.

Albus wept.

-v-v-v-

Once he finished crying for his dead best mate, Albus cleaned himself up, threw out the weapon (a letter opener) and went to the Auror office and told the Aurors he knew best:

"Scorpius is dead."

They stare at him. "What?!"

"He's in his office all bloody and chopped up."

Looking between themselves, one of them whispered, "You don't think–"

"Of course! You know how vocal they are!" The other finished.

Albus didn't know what they were talking about and wondered why they weren't asking him more questions.

"Go tell the investigation unit, we have to start sending people out to their offices now before they can start destroying evidence!" the first barked at their partner who scampered off to carry out the task.

Grabbing the Auror's wrist, he snapped "Hey! What's going on? Shouldn't you be sending people to his office and wanting to question me more?!"

"No," they replied with a sympathetic face. "Al, Scorpius's opposition has always been...vocal about what they'd do to-to-" she sucked back a sob. "Oh Al!" And they wiped at their tears and took his hand. "This must be such a shock for you! But don't worry all right? We'll get them. Ten-fold even!"

"Okay," he whispered. "I think–" He swallowed. "I think I need to take a walk."

Nodding, the Auror let him go. "Alright," they agreed. "Some air probably will help. And Al? We will want to talk to you a little later, for reports."

"For reports, got it," he muttered before he left them to get some "air".

Once he was outside the ministry, he apparated himself away.

-v-v-v-

Staring down into the dark ravine he visited a few times as a child whilst camping with his family, Albus began to realize just how much Scorpius had planned things. He'd been plotting from the very beginning, when they were just boys. Scorpius had set himself up so he would be so beloved, so adored that any ill thoughts toward him would seem blasphemous. Scorpius had posed their lives in such a way that Albus would be so close to him, that even if he learned too much and killed him, not a soul would expect it. Instead, they would blame someone else - their opponents.

Scorpius's dreams were going to come to fruition either much quicker, now that he was gone, or the wizarding world was going to destroy itself once and for all now.

Seeing that everything was futile, Albus took himself to the edge of the ravine and threw himself off it.

* * *

**Hm... I wish I could remember exactly what I said before, but I don't. So, instead, I'll try and paraphrase. What do you think of Albus? Was he victim, accomplice, or follower?**

**And What of Scorpius? He was quite close to world domination, don't you think? How does that make you feel?**

**As for this type of writing, do you like it? Or not? Would you enjoy seeing more of it?**

**To reviewers, Aritzay, crazykaykay229, KodeV, CUtopia, So Timeless, Ziva10, LunaScamander17, Madlenita, EmeraldGrey123, Mira, The Dark One Rising, The Underestimated Truth, Wow, Mmmmm, Hule, Hiei'shalfbrother, Plucie, and TardisPirates; you guys are spectacular. Thanks so, so much!**

**Thank you for reading again and please review!**

**EDITED: 4/2/16**


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